Chapter 58

Too Good to Last

~o~

Useful maps are Harendor and Khand Topo.

~o~

They made Sarlond about noon of the third day. If you knew a ship was available, this was quite a bit faster than riding the other way to Dol Amroth. Nag Kath hadn't paid much attention on his trips because it was tucked in a corner on a small spur of land and ships often passed by at night. It was a larger town than he expected and he had no trouble hiring a four-man fishing boat to take them into the channel hoping to intercept an inbound cargo or, possibly, Marine vessel.

They floated for a couple bells until a small freighter wallowed into view. The captain saw the hail and wondered if veering over was a good idea but he tacked to the calmer current and pulled alongside. The Elf shouted, "Good afternoon sir. Are you interested in two paying passengers?"

The fellow had a grin far surpassing the dreams of Nag Kath and called, "I suppose. How far are you going?"

"Minas Tirith, but Pelargir will do nicely."

The man thought of a fair number, tripled it and said, "Three silvers, you eat what we do!"

The Elves' bargaining position was not strong, bobbing like a cork in the lanes. They had enough Lembas. "Done!"

With a nod, the fishing boat rowed alongside and a deckhand dropped the boarding ladder. Inariel was wearing traveling clothes and had no trouble getting up. The mate offered her his hand and she took it with a smile. Nag Kath was right behind her and turned halfway up to take the bags from the fishermen. They signaled the Brittanals waiting on the shore to go home.

The royal couple could have demanded passage for free and woe to anyone who denied them, but at three silvers, they could quietly be Nag and Inara Solvanth for the occasion. This was a hauler with no passenger space but there was a part of the cargo hold unoccupied which served as their quarters. Like most vessels of any kind, they had baited hooks trailing off the stern and caught enough fish for the cook to easily feed everyone.

~o~

From the point it was still nearly two hundred miles to Pelargir. Spring flow was picking up but with a favorable breeze they made the trip in a little under three days. Inariel was quiet and the crew was surprisingly polite. Captain was a good soul and father of two daughters so his men knew to mind their tongues. They were all smiles disembarking.

Walking to an inn, the Princess said, "I have never need a bath more."

That got her an annoying grin, "Then we need to postpone our vacation to Mordor"

That got a grin from her too. He took rooms at the Sail and Sea before going back to the quay to book a ferry to the Rammas Dock. According to the man who ran the ferry office, the Questor was due that afternoon and would head upriver with the light.

The boat had the wind at her back but with less room to maneuver, traveling against the current is slow. It was another seven days to Rammas, better than usual for the season. They shared a wagon with another couple to the mithril gate and hired two man-carts to take them to the sixth. Once there, extra groats got them to the seventh.

~o~

Inariel took her husband by the elbow to their apartments to clean and change. Eldarion would already know they were here and that would give him time to clear his schedule. They presented themselves with bows and love. The King beheld her and said, "You are younger yet. Hello Nag Kath. Thank you both for coming so far so fast. Please, let us talk for a moment and then I will summon several gentlemen who watch this for me."

He showed them to his small conference table. Tea was brought and the servants vanished leaving only two door guards. The King continued, "We are seeing worship of the old dark ones here in the capital. I would not think anything of it but the man you mentioned in your letter is causing trouble. Refugees are fleeing from this side of his border into Harondor and Ithilien. He has been very cruel, says he is the return of Sauron."

Nag Kath said, "They have it in them. Does he claim to have proof of that or some symbol of his ascension?"

"That is a question for my counselors. Sister, I would like you here as Nag Kath's advisor. This also falls to Prince Barahir's borders and I am sure he would like your counsel as well." Like it or not, this was her husband's long and true trade.

The King nodded to the door attendant who ushered in Security Minister Templeblan, Guardi Chief Duramhir and General Tobl. Inariel knew them in passing. Nag Kath had never met any of them but they certainly knew who he was. After introductions, Eldarion said, "Gentlemen, Lord Kath and Princess Inariel have my complete faith. Please explain what you have discovered."

Templeblan had the floor. "Thank you, Sire. We are seeing increased support for the resurgence of the dark lords among the King's subjects here in Minas Tirith, Osgiliath too. Some are said to worship them. They call themselves the New Shadow."

Nag Kath interrupted to ask, "Which dark lords, sir?"

"Three; Sauron, Morgoth and Saruman."

The Elf looked at Inariel and back to the ministers, "Do you know which language they use? All three used different tongues."

Templeblan drew a blank and looked to his guardi man. Duramhir answered, "Westron, as far as we know. Forgive me, Lord Kath, we have been watching from a distance to see where things lead."

Nag Kath said in his Elf-Lord visage, "I think that is wise."

Templeblan continued, "Mr. Duramhir and I having also been watching an increase in Haradrim coming here from Harondor and Ithilien. Most are just trying to get away from war but a few have been associating with folk who advocate for these dark ones."

The Elf looked at the general and asked, "Are there rumblings in the army? In the past, that is where the spies are placed."

Tobl said, "Not that I know, sir, but we are keeping eyes peeled."

Nag Kath put his elbows on the table with his fingers touching. Finally, he started, "My Lord, My Lady, gentlemen, by intent or mischance, my experience has been largely to remove residual objects of power from before the unmaking of the One Ring that had fallen into the hands of men, like My Lord's Angmar campaign.

"Has there been any sign that those here have, or claim to have access to old sorcery?"

The Guardi man shook his head. General Tobl said, "The fellow you wrote of in Chelkar says he is the next Sauron. Our ears there have never been good."

Nag Kath said, "Khand maintains solid troops along their border with his eastern neighbor, more than enough to keep him from their door. If he wants to expand like the warlords of old, his only choice is west since south is desert. Those little places do not like each other but they seldom had the choice of allies." He held his chin, "General, how are our defenses along the Poros?"

"The Poros; strong, Harondor; less so."

Eldarion commented, "Militia training for Ithilien, here and Lebennin will be more energetic than usual."

Nag Kath thought of Burry and smiled. People seemed to be waiting for him to speak next. He surprised them, "Sire, are there any reports of orcs?"

The men looked at each other and collectively said no.

Nag Kath held his own chin and said, "I will find my old maps. Then I will have a look at one of these worshipers."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Back in their apartments, Inariel groused, "Not much to go on."

Optimistically, he replied, "Quite a bit in my line." He got to where she had hung her own masterwork and grinned, "How did you talk the Provin out of this?"

"Mother kept it in her study."

He walked over to his drawing, a picture of a child in a fountain, and said with a chuckle, "Now this, this is worth diamonds!"

Inariel smiled and said, "She seemed to be having a good time. I do not know who drew that."

"This was before I learned to sign my name, no more than three months after I was released."

She rose quickly and silently to join him. Then she looked at the picture, her husband and the picture again and sat down, seeming pleased. He knitted his brows and concentrated before asking, "Did your da keep his reports from ministers going back to the beginning of his reign?"

Inariel tilted her head slightly and answered, "I have no idea. My brother's scribe probably knows."

He walked over to her, bent to kiss her and said, "Will you ask?" I need to go see Rey and Heuris. Then I need to go to Osgiliath. Hopefully I've still got a horse around here. See you tomorrow, my dear."

~o~

Reyaldar had lasted longer than any of the family Northmen but now well into his eighties, he moved poorly and never left the house. Heuris was stronger and she stayed with him. Their servants were not spring-chickens either. They worked as a team to keep the oldest Conath's comfortable.

Rey said after the guest was seated for tea, "Good to see you. I am glad that Caladrion went in his own way and own time. He and his have acquitted themselves with honor."

"I think so too, but so have you. We have bowmen here ready to serve."

"Aye, better shots than I ever was. The call-up this year will be longer than last." The canny old landlord smiled faintly, "I expect you know more than most."

His great grandfather said, "Just what the birds tell me. Along those lines, is Orlon close to hand?" I need to see some old friends across the river."

Heuris answered, "He should still be in the stable. Eliesse is back at the farm with a foal due in summer."

"Good. I will be back soon and we will hear all the stories. Auntie Inara and I will stay long enough to say hello to everyone."

As his granda left, Rey added, "I will tell the children to open your home."

~o~

Being an Elf helped Orlon remember his master quickly. The lad at the stable made sure he was the owner by having Nag Kath describe the saddle. That done; he took the stallion gently down the three switchbacks to limber and rode out the mithril gate. The horse was in his prime and needed a good work-out. They made the bridge in two hours with a light sweat with another half-hour down to the far south of the original eastern wall. Nag Kath took a room at the Heuron because it had a stable and planned his evening.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It was the sort of tavern if you didn't visit every night, everyone stopped and stared. There were empty tables so he sat at one. A waitress came by with a pitcher and a mug waiting to see his coin. Two groats later, she poured. The other patrons resumed their drinking but someone at every table glanced over now and again. The tall man seemed a bit down-and-out with a patch on one knee and shabby boots, one of which squished with every other step. He minded his own business and nursed his ale. As he was finishing his second mug, a small man walked in the room looking for someone. Not spotting him, he called, "Anyone seen Listracht?"

No one answered so he tried the next bar. The tall traveler finished his ale and walked into the night. After a leisurely stroll away from the wharf warehouses, he saw an older fellow sitting on a bench and sat next to him. The man said, "Always hoped to meet you."

"Is Listracht still with us?"

"Haven't seen him since before you did. It has been quiet."

Nag Kath stretched his legs and countered, "Not so quiet."

"Quiet on the Khagan's side of the border."

"Troublemakers are claiming dark powers again. Is there anything to that?"

The fellow stretched his own legs before answering, "Not yet. Tulbar seems an ordinary warlord with weak neighbors. I could ask a friend of a friend what some of the people leaving have to say."

The tall man put his hands on his knees and said, "I would appreciate that. They are hard-pressed on the Gondor side. This doesn't have to be deadly secret. If someone has something to say, drop a letter in the daily packet to this address." He handed the man a card to the stable and added, "If anyone takes an interest, I'd like to know that too. Does that put your folk too far into the light?" They still lived under dictators.

"For Kath of Nennûrad, not overmuch."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

He was back the next morning and hid Orlon before walking in his rough clothes through the markets and refugee clusters on the south first-level. People here looked too, but not very long. The tall man stopped at a stall serving cholla and dipping sauce for a few groats. A girl of about nine walked over and stared. She probably earned that duty from her family because she was missing three and a half fingers on one hand and might inspire pity from the charitable. There would family watching to make sure he did no more harm.

The tall man tore-off a piece of the cholla and gave it to her and then offered the little husk to dip it in. She smiled and made sure to get as much as the patty would absorb. Chewing quickly, she began her appeal in Westron with a heavy accent, "Best of sirs. You have so much and we so not much, could you give to share for to buy more cholla?"

The speech was probably for someone who didn't have a patch on his knee, but even such as he appeared would have more than her family did. He seemed to consider that and asked, "How many cholla is that?"

On the good hand she counted four fingers and said, "Six cholla."

"That is quite a few. You were hurt, yes?"

Her head dropped. This was a shameful wound and would severely limit her chances of finding a husband since wives must cook and clean and work with both hands. She said meekly, "Yes, best of sirs. Soldiers came to our home. One hit me the sword. He made me to cry."

"Oh, I am sorry. Soldiers of Hûk Tulbar are very fierce."

She did not disagree with the name of the head villain. "Yes, best of sirs. Bad men ate our food." She was not any closer to her family's dinner and said another practiced line, "Three groats, best of sirs. One for each finger."

The kindly man gave her more cholla, "Was your father a soldier?"

She had not prepared for that. Of course he was. Every man in their district was a soldier when he wasn't farming. If this stranger thought her da was a bad man, he would not give them money for food. Improvising, the poor lass mumbled, "Pada is the good men. He brings us to come here from the bad men."

The Elf leaned over so he was at eye level with the ragamuffin and said, "I will give you money. Now you take me to your father, yes?"

No one she had approached even given her a bite. Most ignored her or threatened to cuff her ear. The market stalls would clear soon and yesterday's chollas were gone. She nodded grimly and led the tall man towards a tenement against the switchback wall across from the large stable.

Her father and brother were watching to protect her. Some men would not care if she only had half a hand. The blonde man carried a sword. Brother was only thirteen so the stranger would be hard to defeat with no other help. Father was your usual Southron with lank black hair and a beard that never quite grew in. Nag Kath thought the lump in the blanket next to his place against the wall was a weapon.

In their language, the girl told da that the man said he would give them money but wanted to speak with him first. That seemed promising so her father made the universal gesture for him to sit, in this case, in the dirt. To get around the Swerting's suspicion of no possible benefit, Nag Kath tossed him a silver. The man didn't seem to know what it was at first. Money was brown.

The Elf told him in Westron, "That is worth forty-two groats."

Father did not know the tongue as well as his little girl. Her brother told him in Southron and his eyes got round. He said something and the son looked at the tall one to say, "That is most generous, best of sirs."

Nag Kath said slowly in Variag, "Do you speak this tongue?"

He nodded. Khandian or Variag in the east was like the common-tongue in the west. You learned enough to get by. Plainstongue was gone among the old allies except Mordor. The girl did not know Variag. Keeping in that language he offered, "I will give you more silvers, but you must come to me and tell me about your lands. Do not tell anyone you are doing so. What are your skills, best of sirs?"

In rough Khandian da said, "To farm, to make walls"

The Elf asked, "To soldier?"

The fellow nodded reluctantly. Nag Kath pronounced, "Then I will hire you to make walls. Come to the houlars' section on the other side of the city tomorrow, first thing. I will find you there." He looked at the son to confirm the message was understood. The boy nodded too.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

"Hello, my dear. How is Milli?"

She saw him dressed as a salt-peddler and wondered if he had to confuse the guards to get in before saying, "She is well. Say I told you and I will cast you out, but I think she is at the time of life where sleeping at night is difficult."

"One of my specialties, if she will allow me to heal. I will leave that with you."

"Her physicians recommend hot baths and prayer."

He considered that for a moment but reserved comment. "I made some headway. Did the guardi call?"

"He did. It was a different man. He left a card. Helta put it on the mantle." Nag Kath put his arms around Inariel from behind. She wrinkled her royal nose and said, "You need one of Milli's hot baths. Where have you been?"

"Among the people." He had a cold bath rather than wait.

~o~

The next morning, Nag Kath went to the first, north of the prow, and sat on a ledge near his mural. The father and children wandered through the tunnel. This was still the first-level, but the north side had far fewer places for those with nothing. They had never been here before and walked slowly, not knowing houlars even had shops.

Sure they did not have an unlikely follower, he walked up from behind and said, "Follow me." Nag Kath pulled fifteen feet ahead and led them to a nook fifty paces further. They sat on two benches in front of a rope-maker's shop. No one would complain. Kathen owned it.

For nearly two bells, the Elf talked mostly with the father about the army of Hûk Tulbar; how they fought, how many, tactics, how they drove people away. He also asked oblique questions about any sorcery or symbols the despot used.

Hanieru was a corporal, as in the west; a leader of ten. That was a bonus. Their militia never had a chance against the troops that invested villages, looting what they wanted and burning the rest. The man ruefully admitted their own Hûk was elderly and his sons were something he would not name in the presence of his young daughter. The invading Tulbar's officers had a few of the shaggy horses from the east but his soldiers were on foot.

By the time they were done, Nag Kath knew the condition of their boots, what they ate and, most importantly, what they feared. Of note; they used the symbol Fûl but there were no priests like the Visitors. Hanieru did not know what they worshiped, if anything. They were simply vicious, hungry men who did what they were told. His wife had the good fortune to die quickly.

The Elf handed him a small purse that was mostly copper with some silvers, about a nipper's worth. It was a fortune to them, given in small denominations because the Haradrim could never change a silver without attracting unwanted attention. The gentleman might need to speak to him again. If Hanieru had new tidings of the cruel Tulbar, he should leave a message at a stable on the third level.

~o~

The next stop was the guardi office on the third level. Villains, at least the sort who got caught, were on the third or below. The main office was on the first. Nag Kath stopped by and asked for Mr. Danzail. The desk man knew that anyone inquiring was to be shown back straight-away.

Danzail was Nag Kath's idea of the quiet side of rule. Of normal height, slight build and the same length of beard as most inhabitants, he blended in anywhere but the very top or the very bottom. They shook hands and the Elf was shown a seat in the cramped little office.

The guardi man said, "I did as you asked. The leader, or, at least the man out front, is a Temvarid Hallistrad. That would Hallistrad Mercantile except the old man tossed this son out a few years ago for disrespect. He still has enough money for an apartment here on the third where he occasionally meets others. Other times he is not there. My lads are looking for other ways out. It is the sort of building where some tenants have their own outside doors."

Nag Kath asked, "What makes you think he has anything to do with Sauron?"

Danzail expected that. "His da objected to his scholarship supporting the dark ones. Since then he has been more discreet, but his visitors are known to be interested in darkness as well. I put the man about thirty. He has no friends, no woman; pretty miserable if you ask me."

The Elf was impressed, "How does he talk to his followers?"

The guardi grinned, "Ah, there he is not so subtle. One of his guests will leave and soon after, written bills appear on the public boards with some sort of nonsense. I think it is a code, but don't know that either." The chief took a sheet off his desk, "This one just happened to come my way."

It was in Westron but with poor spelling and words out of place. Nag Kath would give it a closer look later. He leaned forward and said, "I am sure Mr. Duramhir told you a little of me. My house is 577 on the fourth. I am not there but will stop by often. Let us keep Mr. Hallistrad comfortable. This next question is very important; what does he eat?"

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath stopped at Fieldar's house. He was in his fifties, so not the arrow-shooting youngster stuck in the Elf's head. Son Lasthlo was doing the Kathen field work these days with wife Annalien of the bar fight. A child was on the way. Fieldar's wife Mazienne said, "Uncle Nag, I will organize one of our grand family dinners."

"That would be splendid. You might need to wait. I am back in my old employ for a short while and do not want to attract attention." The woman believed what she had been told about the enigmatic distant relative and gave a knowing smile.

~o~

It was time for a look at Mr. Hallistrad. The apartment building was next to the one Chûr stayed in all those years ago. If it was like his, the rooms were accessed through interior corridors and several had exterior doors too. By rent or arrangement, he could leave through any of four outside doors, three on the third and one on a stair up to the fourth. Nag Kath guessed he had one for when he would likely be seen and another for secrecy.

The Elf reviewed his sketch of Mr. Danzail's recollection of the spy's face and had leisurely tea three doors across the street. Good tips kept the waiter happy. Hallistrad did not come or leave, unless well disguised. The Elf had tea there the next day, amazing the owners with his bladder. Towards closing-time, his man stepped out the nearest third-level door and walked furtively towards the food markets. He filled his bag with loaves, butter, eggs and greens. Evidently he did not own a stove. The man met no one, spoke only to vendors about the prices and went home through the same door.

The Elf had Danzail put men on the building to see if the fellow made any more trips from his public door. Three days later, he went out again nearing the dinner bell and got a baked-fish plate, greens and grain from a place that made them for the convenience of busy workers. The following day, Nag Kath thought that was a delicious idea and went by the same stall, asking questions about the spices. Later that afternoon, he returned with a guardi man and made the owner a generous offer to let them help prepare food. The cook thought having two men pay him for the privilege of working the stove was heaven sent. The condition was that he never told a soul.

It only took two more days until Mr. Hallistrad was back. Proprietor Blanksire poked his head into the kitchen with a wink and turned to tell the nervous young man that a fresh batch would be coming in just a moment. Warm with savory spices, it was taken home and enjoyed.

~o~

Nag Kath's guardi cook was Selbroune. His next job was to mind the three front entrances. Watcher Mentier had the door in the back. At the late eleven-bell, Nag Kath went in the rear door and wandered the corridor. He sensed his own spell on the second floor. The door was not locked long.

Hallistrad was sitting in a chair and groggy. The first thing he saw was yellow light. The Elf pulled a chair over to the Visitor, for lack of something better to call him, and said in Westron, "I am come from friends. Are we prepared?"

Hallistrad did not want to answer but had no trained defenses. He croaked, "Prepared?"

"Yes, are our adherents ready?"

"I do not know. We seek ..."

Nag Kath had overestimated the man but he might be the obvious pigeon with higher-ups supervising quietly. He asked in the Black Speech, "What powers have you used?" There was no response. He tried the same in Southron. Nothing. Back to Westron, the Elf tried, "Who must be told if there is news?"

Against his every fiber, Hallistrad groaned, "A greater one."

"I must speak with him. Who is that?"

It took another jolt of yellow but the Visitor whined, "I do not know. I leave the sign. His servants will come to me." After a pause with greater concern, "Is there danger?!"

"No, tidings are good. It is time for the arrival. Give the sign."

~o~

Usually Nag Kath would have given the Visitor some sort of clearing. He would not remember anything from the Lostorin for a while. Uncleared, it would stay with him for years. That would have to wait.

Hallistrad might not remember the craft of signals and evasion, if he knew any. Nag Kath sat with him all night. At light, the man stood and gathered a small bag in a trunk near the foot of his bed and walked out the back door. Mentier saw Nag Kath give the sign and followed some distance back with a distinct whistle for Selbroune.

When the linen store opened on the far south of the fourth, Hallistad walked in. There could be no staying with him but Selbroune hurried through one of the rare alleys between buildings here to see if he ducked out the back. He didn't. Hallistrad left the store a minute later, accidentally bumping into a tall man who failed to apologize.

The same tall man scampered back up the stairs to join the two guardi. There was no back exit, unless the stores had inside doors. Neither of them looked like seamstresses but Mentier was newly married which earned him the job of getting two yards of linen his expectant wife could not get herself.

Mentier was good. He politely waited for a lady to a look around, knowing his questions would interfere with the man's first customer. She made a minimal purchase of an item that had already been cut, the only one of its kind on the shelf. The woman, forty-ish, thanked the proprietor and was out shortly without paying, as if on account. Mentier, scratched his head in confusion and said to the man at the counter, "I beg pardon, sir. Let me just see the size." He left and walked out of view of the small shop window before giving a sign that their real quarry was the woman. Then he went back inside to get two yards of a lovely fabric that would be just right for the upcoming bundle of joy.

Selbroune and Nag Kath stayed with the woman; the Elf hurrying up the stairs to the fifth to watch from above, the guardi barely out of distance on her heels. She did not seem to be concerned with watchers, not stopping to window-shop and see who else did. She did turn into a dilapidated house. Selbroune could only wait. Nag Kath saw her make her only feint and come out the rear and backtrack to the next set of stairs up to the fifth. From there she was wordlessly admitted in the stout gate of a splendid home.

Not knowing the guardi whistles, Nag Kath collected the two men and told them he needed eyes on the fine home as far away as they could get them. He would be with them most of the time. Normally, one of the guardi would discover who owned the place but Nag Kath just went to the Kathen office and asked Lasthlo. It belonged to Mr. Keprand, a member of mercantile exchange.

Hellistrand's important message was that a messenger from Tulbar arrived with refugees. Their friends in the capital should prepare for the next phase. Nag Kath assumed they had a next phase. If they didn't, that was to the good. More importantly, whoever was in that house had work to do. Sure enough, that afternoon a servant left the main gate, stopping at two other august residences before returning. At twilight, their owners came to the place on the fifth and were admitted on sight. They left quickly. The game was on.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It was time to talk with the guardi. Templeblan called a meeting with Mr. Danzail and Mr. Duramhir. Chief Duramhir went first, "Keprand seems to be what he seems. Olaughdour is some sort of trader, gets things delivered in Osgiliath or at the Rammas. The third is Hech Perandorn, formerly Colonel Perandorn. It seems he retired suddenly for things unmentioned in his resignation. The man comes from money. The home is his wife's. He has a son in the army, a Lieutenant, along with a pair of daughters; one married, one still there."

Nag Kath said, "Good work, gentlemen. Mr. Danzail, your men deserve praise. Here is what I can add; Hellistrand speaks no dark or eastern tongues. He is a believer but was not trained using magic to protect himself from questioning. The man will remember nothing of our conversation or taking the message to the linen shop."

Danzail added, "The shop seems ordinary. The owner regularly visits the shrine of the Valar. One can never say for certain, but I don't think he is involved. The fellow said the woman who came in for the message is a lady's maid, so, probably on an errand for the lords of the manor."

Templeblan sighed, "One less trail to sniff. I think I agree with what Lord Kath is about to say next; our main concern is the former Colonel. I will tell General Todl as soon as I can see him. They have their own methods. Chief, do you need more men?"

Duramhir shook his head, "I will take a few fellows off a new cut-purse gang. What about this Olaughdour?"

Templeblan rubbed his temples and said, "Yes, keep an eye on him too. Thankfully, he is not political."

Nag Kath offered, "Let us not assume we have found the top yet. Does Keprand have friends on the sixth or seventh?"

The Minister said, "You have a devious mind, Lord Kath. I like that. Perhaps with a small squeeze we shall see where the bubbles come up. Mr. Danzail, with the Chief's permission, I think we should learn everything we can about the distinguished Mr. Keprand, who he knows, what he does, his children, the lot."

Duramhir nodded as Danzail's direct supervisor and added, "If the man is in the mercantile league; that could stretch some distance sideways, well out of my purview."

Templeblan said, "Leave that with me. Lord Kath, do you feel like visiting the General?"

~o~

Todl was expected back shortly. This office was on the seventh to be close to the King but he did most of his work on the second at the staff headquarters, not far from their former stables where Nag Kath spent the war. This was important enough that the Minister and Elf waited in his office holding fresh tea.

With time to kill, Templeblan thought to know his mysterious associate better. "How old are you, Nag Kath?"

"Just turned 134, quite young by Elvish standards."

"But old by those here?"

The Elf chuckled, "There are older in the Woodland Realm. They keep to themselves. One of these days I will visit them again. Now; my wife is not yet fifty so she is youngest of those in the world of men."

"I hope you do not mind my asking."

"If I did it would still be your job to know. You serve a fine and just King. He needs to know things too."

Templeblan said, "Very well. I understand you were not called with the other Elves because you were once an orc of some kind?"

It showed how far men were from the war that he did not know the different types of orcs. Nag Kath said, "One of Saruman's Uruk-hai. I was imprisoned for the Steward's inspection and turned as I am in a gaol next to the stables on the second. That was why I asked about the dark ones and language. Anyone hoping for the return of Saruman is a fool. He certainly was. I am as close as they will get."

That was quite a bit more than Templeblan thought to hear. Just then, General Todl walked in and shut the door behind him. The general staff in Gondor was structured so that the top man had the status of the highest Ministers, but was not of their group. He was not the leader in the field, should it be needed. Younger men with cavalry, infantry and navy responsibility stayed with their forces, Todl knew Templeblan well and sat back in his own chair with a sigh saying, "I am sure this is going to be a full plate."

The Minister gave him the report. Todl put his elbows on his desk and mused, "I remember Perandor's departure. He came up with me. It seems he had sticky fingers with an ordinance supplier. It was dishonest but not sinister. He was bitter, probably would have made the general staff. His wife is rich as a Dwarf's widow. Usually men like that need independent means for secret tastes. Don't know much about the son either, other than that he is a good officer. His old man's departure did not affect his prospects. It was all kept quiet."

That was the way of high office. No one wanted a magistry trial and the opprobrium that came with it for petty change. The General pulled one of two cords behind him and a staff orderly was in within moments. Todl said, "I would like a word with Captain Wheymier."

The man said Wheymier was on the second and asked if he should send for him? Todl rubbed the bridge of his nose and replied, "No, I am going there now. Have my horse ready in five minutes."

Nag Kath said, "Before you go …" and gave him the state of play in the Southron army.

Todl and Templeblan were glued to their chairs. They knew the Elf had considerable battle experience but this was the sort of thing their planners would love to know. The General's horse had to wait.

~o~

Lady's maid Helta opened the door. This time her Lady's husband was better groomed. She bowed and he walked around in silence before asking, "Is Her Ladyship out?"

Helta curtsied and replied, "She is at her Lady Sisters', Your Lordship."

Nag Kath did not like being 'His Lordship' but knew he had married into this and the seventh has rules. He thanked her and walked down the hall to Milli's. This was a much larger suite of rooms than Inariel's since it was Millicend's permanent home. A steward admitted him to a reception hall and would tell the ladies that Lord Kath had returned.

Millicend was now seventy eight but looked fifty. Her husband, long retired, was only seventy two years-old and looked every one of them. Milli invited Nag Kath to join them. He had not been in these quarters before. They were decorated in Gondoran and Elvish styles. That was not generally a graceful mixture, better than Dwarvish, he supposed.

Millicend said in her bubbly way, "Inara tells me you are up to things that I am not supposed to know." She had a fair raised eyebrow of her own.

The Elf said smoothly, "Just cleaning up a few old messes, bit of a bother but no more."

The Princess knew that was as much answer as she would get. Her sister reported, "I asked about the old records. Head scribe Bonthaulu is expecting you to call."

"Thank you my dear. Is he in the blue hall?" She nodded. He left his eyes on her for any hints that Millicend's condition had been broached. If there were, they were too subtle for his clumsy court manners. The girls did not seem anywhere near finished so he took his leave and wandered down the corridor to find Bonthaulu.

With a name like that, Nag Kath was not expecting a fellow who looked like a Numenorean. The reception was gracious and after yet more tea, the scribe asked, "How may I be of service, My Lord?"

"Many years ago, one of King Elessar's counselors kept records of orcish military tactics. This would have been in the year 3020 of the last age. The author was Amiedes Tallazh who later became the first Minister of Trade. Do you keep archives that far back?"

Bonthaulu put his cup on the desk and said, "I do not know, but will certainly look. Most of those things are kept."

Nag Kath came back, "It may be in a larger file of similar war records. I should like a look at the lot, if it is not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, My Lord. Provided we can find it. I shall leave word at your apartments as soon as the archivist is done." The Lord left thinking there were advantages to being the King's brother-in-law.

Inariel was still at her sister's when he got back to the apartments so he took off his boots and wondered about what came next. The army would look into Lieutenant Perandorn. The Guardi were watching the troika and, presumably, snooping into the merchant's exchange. The Southron corporal was under no obligation to be available. Righters across the river were alert. That was where anyone coming up from south Ithilien would arrive, which made him think of the merchant who did business there. Might he be the king-pin of the three?

He heard from the scribes an hour later. They found Tallazh's notes along with related pieces from one of the Steward's officers who gave specifics into field tactics of the troops behind the orcs before the dead army arrived. Nag Kath was interested to see how Tallazh described him as he learned the tongue and drew his pictures. He remembered very little of this. Tallazh went from mildly disgusted to sympathetic as their relationship developed.

The officer's diary was not personal but well-ordered on how units were deployed. They might not still do things that way and did not have the Mûmikils as cover, but it was instructive.

Inariel arrived after dinner. Nag Kath knew he was on his own and finding things to eat was not hard. She sat on his lap on the couch and said, "While you have been enjoying life, Milli told me more of her difficulty. I mentioned that was one of your healing specialties. She will let one of us know. Royal healers generally do not touch royal bodies."

Her royal healer had no such restrictions.

~o~

Head Guardi Duramhir read down the list of the merchant's exchange. They were important men, some better known than others. "This one, a Mr. Rellugh-Tur has been with the group four years and works from Osgliath. He trades up and down the Anduin, sometimes with his own ferries, sometimes hired. As near as we can tell, he is a proper citizen now. The man contributes to the Prince's Charity, pays his bills and keeps his nose clean."

Nag Kath asked, "Where does he live?"

"Big place on the southwestern bank. Here's the address."

There was no sense who to squeeze first. The suspects could already be ruined, or worse, for violating the King's Peace, but if one of them wasn't the top man, it would only drive him undercover. Nag Kath volunteered for another ride east.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

He started with Ilvest Kathen. The Elf wasn't a shareholder anymore but was still their biggest client so Harengred Ilvest received him in style. The rare meeting started unusually, "Gred, what can you tell me about Mr. Rellugh-Tur, lives on the west-side down by the old wall."

The man had a sip of tea and said, "I know of him, don't know him. I think he owns his own property."

"I need to find out more, an old matter."

The estate man knew the old matter was none of his business. After more tea he admitted, "Never had much to do with that corner, but my friend Renthiew does. I'll need to introduce you. Are you in a hurry?"

"No."

Let us ride over tomorrow, not too early, and pay him a visit."

They had dinner that night with the family and rode after porridge. From the office to the far south of western Osgiliath takes an hour on horseback. Renthiew didn't have an office. He was a cantankerous old fellow who owned a few rental buildings and made his son-in-law do all the lifting. The man was sitting on his porch when they rode up.

"Hello, old Eried!"

"Good day, Gred. What brings you out here?"

The riders tied their horses to porch posts and walked up. Ilvest replied, "In the area. Eried, this is Nag, old friend of mine. We were wondering if you could tell us about your neighbors." The tone of voice suggested this was business. Renthiew was alone so this was as private as anywhere. He gestured for them to have a chair."

Ilvest said, "This needs to stay between us. Nag needs to know about Mr. Rellugh-Tur. He is making inquiries from Minas Tirith."

The old boy leaned back in his chair and wondered, "Are you now? Mind my asking why?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm, what do you want to know?"

"Just if he has any friends who come to visit from along the bottom of the Ephel."

Renthiew responded, "Don't know. You some sort of soldier?"

"I am."

"That's different. Twenty-two seasons in the Third Pikemen till I dropped a rafter on my toes. Swertings making trouble again?"

Nag Kath could give him that, "Not yet, but one of their hard men is pushing this way. We would like to make sure he doesn't get very far."

"I still don't know anything about the man but I will tell you this for the cause; there is a rooming house across from the compound, only place around, run by a Mrs. Briel. Tell her I sent you. Cost you fifteen groats a night. Bring your own sheets. Any of the rooms facing that way on the second floor will give you a view. She's a chatty sort. You bring wine, maybe chattier." He chuckled at that.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

There weren't a lot of options for spying. The large mercantile complex was nearly at the bottom of the old wall and stretched inland all the way to this seldom-used road, much further inland than any of his neighbors on the river - too far from the bridge to be highly-sought. The rooming-house was the only structure anywhere close to the back end of the property.

Nag Kath left Orlon with Renthiew and carried his bag, telling Mrs. Briel he needed four nights and paying in advance. Leaving his things in the room, he made a wide circle around the businessman's compound, peeking in the wharves on the river. It had a gate on the inland side across from the rooming house but there were no recent tracks visible from his quarters. He pulled the only chair up to his window and read a book. Boarding here included dinner. He would ask questions then.

~o~

Around the table, the other diners started with the landlady's elderly mother-in-law, a woman much devoted to pious living. There was Mr. Lenfulas who was here from Pelargir. Across from him was a Mr. Iriantha, who would have you know he was the man to see about the finest Poros roofing slates. There was no mention of what happened to either Mr. Briels.

The two gentlemen had an animated discussion about roofing, river currents and the general decline in public decorum. Mrs. Briel the elder commented on public decorum as it pertained to her lifetime study. The landlady said little and Mr. Solvanth only ventured; "That is quite a place across the way. Stout walls too."

It was the sort of comment greenbottoms make when they feel the need to say something but are out of their depth. The landlady smiled, "Foreigners, but quite respectable. I think he works at the docks."

Her mother-in-law proclaimed, "Foreigners have foreign religions."

She didn't seem to think that needed any embellishment so the handsome man wondered, "I do not much about those beliefs. How are they different from our own?" The two merchants combined for the barest of groans. Evidently this had been covered the night before.

The old lady glowered at them and snapped, "Young man, foreigners believe in black powers! They would murder us in our sleep!"

Nag Kath thought he should risk being a bit more stupid, "I should hope the people across the road have no such intentions!"

Mrs. Briel the younger felt paying customers did not need to be told that swarthy foreigners thirsted for blood at nearby rooming-houses. "Mother, dear heart, I am sure the family obeys our laws to the letter."

Unmolified, the senior woman declared, "From the desert, they are! Just because they haven't slain us yet doesn't mean they won't. Hughmmph, I lock my door at night!"

The Elf's job was to get information, not be an accommodating dinner guest. With alarm, "Dear me! One of my neighbors is from, oh, one of those lands to the east and doesn't seem at all the type to make trouble." He looked at the old lady in mild despair and asked, "How would one know if their neighbors were murderous villains?"

Landlady Briel tried again, "Mother has always tried to keep us safe from …"

"HOW?!" the old lady thundered, "See them riding here at night, soldiers by the look with those curved swords. Oh, yes, they are dressed like traders, but my Hogun was a soldier and I know what to look for. He never abided cut-throats!"

The men at the table decided they had enough to eat and made for their rooms. The young man looked forlornly at his cold meat before excusing himself shortly after. On the way up the stairs he heard, "Mother! You will drive us to the Charity if you …" Bloodthirsty Southrons, eh? Tomorrow he would have a closer look at the docks.

No one was murdered. The two merchants were on their way after porridge. Nag Kath wandered to the wharf. The long compound had river frontage and stretched as far west as the street with the boarding house. The company sign on the water belonged to the trading company from Duramhir's mercantile list. It seemed just like all the rest with a slack crew waiting for ferries or small ships to dock. If the old lady was right and soldierly types with curved swords used the back door, this was a lucrative way for Rellugh-Tur to maintain appearances.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

If dinner the night before was trying, tonight was excruciating. It was just the two women and the blonde man. He ruffled the bedding to make it look like he slept but did not need sheets. While he was out, he did run across a modest jug of red wine. It could wait until Mrs. Briel senior was tucked away.

Mrs. Briel the younger became more solicitous and helpful to the young boarder. The old woman needed an existing conversation to interrupt so the landlady asked the least controversial question she could, "What brings you Osgiliath, Mr. Solvanth?"

"I was sent by my father-in-law to wait for a shipment coming upriver. Yesterday was the first day it could have arrived but I am to wait until the ferry docks and make arrangements for the goods to be carted to Minas Tirith."

She offered, "How interesting. I hope your wait is not overlong." It took a very long time for her to lick her lips. The old lady was noisily working her remaining teeth and paying no attention. Briel junior looked her way and asked, "Is everything to your liking, mother?"

"Fine, thank you, daughter-in-law."

The landlady looked at her sole guest and empathized, "I know it can be lonely on the road, away from the ones we love." Her lips were dry again.

Nag Kath put her at about forty-five. She was in the mold of the lusty innkeeper Whilmina along the Greyflood except ten years older plus another thirty pounds. This was when the old lady needed to say something but she continued grazing and mashing her food.

Her earnest lodger beamed, "Yes, I am newly married with a youngster on the way. Fortunately, Granhulda's father needed a man and I was retained, on a probationary basis, of course."

Briel senior belched to shame a Dwarf and announced, "I shall retire to my room now. Good evening to you both."

The landlady rose and helped her before returning to the table saying softly, "She really is very sweet."

"I am sure she is, Mrs. Briel."

"Please, I am Verlia to my friends."

Nag Kath did not offer a first name. He did say, "I did not want to mention this in front of a pious woman of the Valar, but would you object if I had a taste of wine?"

That seemed to dry her lips considerably, "I think that would be fine, Mr. Solvanth."

~o~

The Elf slipped upstairs and back with the jug, at first only filling his empty tea mug and then remembering that one should always share with others. She had a solid pull and said, "Yes, travel can be lonely." He noticed that her top blouse button had undone itself.

Oh Eldarion, My Liege, there are some things you must not ask of me!

He needed that window view above but might jump the wall tonight against two more dinners here. After her first cup of wine, Verlia's every movement became a languid gesture of invitation. Nag Kath knew he could out-drink her but only had one bottle. He poured her another and said, "Your mother …"

"Mother-in-law."

"Uh, yes, exactly, she seemed much concerned about the Southrons, if that is what they are."

The mood of romance was shattered for the moment. Mrs. Briel gulped about a third of round two and sulked, "Old woman is off the beam."

"I thought as much. I hope these neighbors are not who will load our goods." He topped her mug.

"Noooo, I don't know what he does. Some sort of … something. Shipping?" Another button was loose.

The young newlywed said in relief, "Oh, that is reassuring. With that wide gate, I should think they handle large wagons." He realized his metaphor too late.

~o~

This was not going the way she wanted with the dim-witted go-fer. "They get wagons, sometimes. Mother-in-law becomes upset when people come and go. Her window is right below yours and she watches all day … watching and waiting … and Watching and Waiting!" Her second mug was down to a ring around the bottom.

The young gentleman poured another and empathized, "My aunt was much the same, bless her heart. She would stay at her window knitting trying to catch perfectly respectable neighbors in heresy."

"Heresy!" The landlady was hitting stride. Hopefully the old one was deaf as a mallet. "Heresy! I'll give you heresy. Sometimes more foreigners arrive and they sing or chant or incant, drives mother-in-law to distraction!"

The skittish young boarder fretted, "That is terrible! I hope they do not do that while I am here!"

Round three was almost a memory. Fortunately, they were the little Hobbit-sized mugs that only hold a half-pint. Since he was sipping, there was one more left in the jug. Mrs. Briel erupted, "Who knows what the dougsh do? Saw one of those soldiers mother-in-law hates so much arrive today." She burped, "Horse hadn't been groomed since, well, for a long time!"

Her tenant was frightened, "Oh, I knew I should have stayed home! What if the shipment doesn't arrive before they summon their demons?!"

She looked at him with a lip-lick as long as her tongue. He poured the last inch of the jug in her cup as she slouched in her chair trying to reach his shins with her toes. Being two seats across from center, they didn't reach. "Oh, hold your water, boy! They don't do that unless the big swarthy brute comes, long stringy moustache." She became sultry again, "Not my sort of man at all, if you take my meaning."

He needed to hear about this fellow so he dumped his mug into hers to keep the conversation alive. Mrs. Briels slurped and slurred, "Sometimes he comes with two of the Swertings. Sometimes he's alone. Mother-in-law … fair … howls …" With the damage to the last mug, her slouch became a sprawl as her head leaned against the chair-back. She was snoring when he tiptoed up to his room.

Those late-season Dorwinion wines pack quite a punch.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

For some reason, porridge was not ready at the usual time. Nag Kath wandered back to the docks. A small, oared, freight-barge was being unloaded. Two warehouses upstream, another craft was filled for shipping later in the day. Nag Kath walked up to a muscular young man from one of the southern lands after the boat was made ready. A small amount of yellow light flashed. Money changed hands.

He watched the entrance from up the street this time and made for his room at the three-bell. Mrs. Briel junior was cleaning with the least possible motion. She looked up and smiled as he went upstairs. After quitting time; the handsome stevedore walked in and wanted to rent a room. He paid for two days with cash he didn't have that morning and said he was here to wait for a package after work. If it didn't come, he still got to sleep in a room that didn't have three other dock-men fighting for space. Mrs Briel the elder did a slow-burn. The young merchant went to his room right after fish. An hour later came proof the old lady was almost deaf.

Nothing much happened the next day until with the fading sun. The swarthy horseman arrived and was admitted in the gate by someone waiting. His horse had long hair too. Mrs. Briel senior limped to the main room window and nearly burned a hole where she stood. This was too much! Nag Kath was gone when they turned, slipping over the wall and making his way to the first of two rooms with lamps burning in the compound. A woman was doing needlepoint. The other was a conversation between Rellugh-Tur and his two guests.

The Elf knew enough Haradrim to get the gist of it. No, no one knew why the simpleton in Minas Tirith sent the message. No such tidings had come from the south. The Lord Tulbar had crushed the feeble Hûk Konsturdi of Korb Chelkar. When he crossed the Harnen River, there would be little resistance from the Khan of Harondor.

Mr. Rellugh-Tur said, "Then it is in place."

The younger Southron asked, "If we do not intend to strike the Elessar, why bother with them?"

The older man answered, "For the money. Foolish lordlings who worship the dead offer tribute, and we accept. Harondor is weak. The Gondor have no stomach for a fight. They claim lordship, but leave it to fly-meat like Houshuld to protect their flank. Once it is ours, they can only be glad we do not take more."

Rellugh-Tur followed with, "Friends in Elessar's army tell us they bolster their defenses only above the Poros. Below that is ours for the taking." He turned to the senior rider, "Wennig-Dûk, you say the Lord's progress is as planned?"

"No change. We must wait for snows in the Duath to melt and conscript the peasants to better purpose. The weapons you send go where needed. We cross the Chelkar next autumn if things go as we want. If it is later, there is still no opposition.

The swarthy Southron added lustily, "Come; that is enough talk of what might be. I need food and ale." He got his food. He got his ale. Late that night, he got a visitor. This man had not been conditioned against interrogation either. These people were susceptible to sorcery.

~o~

Nag Kath walked in the rooming house to get his bag the same time a sleepy young stevedore walked out. The man still had no idea why he stayed there but he knew the money could only be used for lodgings. No package arrived. The woman was useful. His mother warned him Gondor was a strange land!

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~